


Fightplay

by battle_cat



Series: Together [24]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Biting, F/M, Fight Sex, Max on top, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roughhousing, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:37:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5227169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battle_cat/pseuds/battle_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not the first time they’ve used <em>fight</em> as a prelude to <em>fuck</em>.</p><p>Furiosa’s very good at getting on top, and they both enjoy that plenty. But tonight something different happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fightplay

It’s not like they’d been _trying_ to end up in this position, but here they are.

It’s not the first time they’ve used _fight_ as a prelude to _fuck_. If it’s a ground game Max can take the brace off and go just as hard as she likes without hurting himself, and grappling naked has certain specific appeals.

They’ve learned through experience to push the mattress into the center of the room, to lessen the chances of smashing into a wall. They don’t always end up on it, but it’s a worthy aspiration.

Furiosa’s very good at getting on top, and they both enjoy that plenty.

Except…

Except right now Max is on top of her, his weight heavy on her lower back, his grip on her arm pulled up between her shoulderblades keeping her pressed into the mattress.

It’s one of the few positions where having one forearm puts her at a distinct disadvantage. He could keep her there if he really wanted to.

“Hm,” he mutters, remembering. He moves to slide off her.

“Wait,” she says.

Because the jolt that had gone through her when he pulled her arm up behind her back wasn’t fear, and now she’s curious.

“Stay there.”

“Mm.” Considering. “Yeah?” His hand runs over the soft fuzz of her hair, across the brand and down over her back, a scratch of nails making her shudder.

He shifts his grip on her wrist to his left hand, and she feels the tilt of his weight as he slides down. There’s a jagged little skitter of adrenaline when he settles on top of her, trapping her arm between them, and he feels it, she knows he does. He lies still for a moment, giving her a chance to control her reaction, giving her a chance to say no.

She doesn’t.

He’s sweaty and solid on top of her, his scent filling her nostrils. His grip on her wrist is firm but not painful; an adrenaline-fueled wrench could pull her out of it, but that’s not what she wants.

That’s not what she wants.

He shifts so his erection slides between her asscheeks, sweaty-slick skin against skin.

“Like this?” he breathes hot in her ear, and he rolls his hips against her.

Her moan catches her by surprise, and he laughs that rumbly little laugh against the back of her neck. The adrenaline is still there, making everything sharper and brighter, but there’s no panic underneath it, just a deep, throbbing need. She can feel it practically vibrating through her skin, and she thinks he can feel it too.

“Mm, yeah,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Like that.”

His tongue slides against her neck, hot and wet, licking away sweat, and his teeth scrape her skin, a warning before he bites down on the muscle in her shoulder. It sends a hard spike of pleasure straight through her.

He moves his teeth and does it again, wringing out a whimper that makes him twitch against her. She is dimly aware that she’s grinding into the mattress, but her head has gone buzzy and blank, nothing but sensation, teeth and hips and sweat and want.

Blank is nice sometimes.

She feels him shift again, getting his knees in between hers, and it shouldn’t send a pulse through her cunt when he pushes her legs apart, it _shouldn’t_ —but, _oh_ —she’s gasping into the mattress when he does it.

His hand slides down her side, brushing the inside of her thigh before his fingers trail through wetness, a maddeningly light touch. She is _soaked_.

“Mm. You’re very wet,” he says, and she thinks that’s an understatement; she can feel herself dripping. He’s sliding just the tips of his fingers through her folds, making her itch, dragging breathless little noises out of her, making her wild for more. 

“What should we do about that?” Teasing, but also asking.

She jerks her hips, trying to get more of his fingers inside her, and he just laughs and pushes her legs wider apart, and before she can stop herself she moans, “Please, Max.”

“Please what?” He wants her to say it, she knows, so he’s absolutely sure.

She growls, and it takes another slow trace of his fingers around her opening before she can get the words out.

“Please fuck me like this.” She hears how wrecked her own voice sounds, and it sends a shiver through her.

That soft laugh again, a hum of vibrations against her skin. “’F you insist.”

She feels him slide in, deep, and then draw out again almost all the way, and it’s so unbearably slow, he’s going to drive her mad with teasing; he keeps going like that like he could do it forever, until she snaps and whimpers, “Harder” into the mattress.

When he finally, _finally_ gives her what she wants, long, hard thrusts that move her against the sheets, she can’t keep quiet; she buries her face in the mattress to muffle the cries coming out of her, and underneath it she can hear the filthy wet squelch every time he bottoms out inside her; she can’t believe he hasn’t come yet; she can’t believe all that wetness is her.

He lets her wrist go, her arm still held between their bodies, and snakes an arm around her shoulders, keeping her close. When her hips buck up against him he uses the moment to push a hand underneath her, and it takes nothing at all, a couple of flicks at her clit, before she’s clenching around him, hard enough to make him gasp, biting down on mattress padding to stifle a scream as the wave of pleasure rolls through her, shaking her limbs, making her face tingle.

He’s still inside her, fingers still playing with her clit, and he usually backs off after she comes but this time he keeps going, pushing her forward, and everything is revving right up again, and oh, _fuck_ , her legs are shaking against his and she’s coming again, right on the heels of her first orgasm, shouting, _fuck_ —

The world is incoherent, everything a dizzy blur of sweat and heat and weight and fingers still grinding against her, _still_ , he’s still going and she’s on the edge of it being too much but she doesn’t want him to stop, not yet, and he hisses in her ear, “Again,” and she’s not sure if she can do it again but then his teeth are back on the spot between neck and shoulder and the sharp spark of pain is the shot of nitro she needs and she’s shaking apart again, desperate and raw and a bit sore, and this time it’s too much for him and she can feel him pulsing inside her, his ragged exhale of breath between teeth still clenched in her flesh.

As soon as he can move again he rolls off her, flops over on his back, chest heaving.

She’s still lying on her stomach, dazed, sweaty and sticky, pins and needles prickling the arm she hadn’t even felt go numb. He turns his head to look at her and his face is flushed, pupils wide and dark. He looks as stunned as she feels.

He reaches out and brushes a soft hand against her cheek, and because she can’t seem to remember how to move, he’s the one that slides over to her to pull her into his arms, running a soothing hand over her back, brushing soft kisses over the marks left by his teeth, while she buries her face against his neck.

“That was…intense,” she finally mumbles into his shoulder.

“Mm.”

“I liked it.”

“I noticed.”

“Wouldn’t have thought...”

“You’re full of surprises.”

She doesn’t have any words for what it means, that she can let him undo her like that, or to explain how for so much of her life, the choices were dominate or get hurt, and it’s nice to be able to have something else sometimes, even if it’s dizzying and a little bit scary.

Luckily, words are never something he expects.


End file.
